The Waste
by Hawki
Summary: Sins of a Dark Age Story: The Waste. A barren stretch of land on the edge of the Empire. Only a few traveled through it. Only a few successfully made the journey. And of those few...well, there are needs in the Empire that the land outside it can't fulfill...
1. By All My Work Remembered

**Sins of a Dark Age: The Waste**

**Chapter 1: By All My Work Remembered**

The Waste lived up to its name.

No. Not "lived," Lavalu reflected. Nothing lived out there. Men might travel through the Waste, criminals might have been sent out to die in it, but the Waste held no life for long. Only the bones of the formerly living. Some made it through. Some didn't. And for those who did make it across, their throats parched, their skin burnt, the Inn of Shining Sand was their first point of call.

"What do you see?"

Lavalu remained standing under the arch of the doorway, her shawl keeping the sand out of her eyes. Majed had chosen his site well. Just as the mosque had nearby, its imam quite willing to journey into the Waste to bless the souls of the departed. For the right price of course.

"Lavalu! Ch'nu ra'a?!"

"One man," the serving girl whispered. "On a camal."

"And that is all?"

"His serving boy is dead."

The innkeeper looked at her. "How do you know?"

"What man of his size travels alone?" she asked, looking at her employer. "He lost someone. I can sense it."

Majed patted her on the shoulder. "Ah. Well, God willing, we may yet help the living."

_You mean me._

"And God willing, he may yet help us."

Lavalu knew that twinkle in the innkeep's eyes. A silver twinkle. The type of silver that was always in anticipation of receiving gold.

And knowing the process behind it, she stepped out onto the sand to greet the traveller. Sand that was golden also. The boundary between the inhospitable land of the Dune Sea, and the hellscape that was the Waste.

_Golden sand from a brown land. Brown man bringing golden coins. Silver eye for it all._

Lavalu shook it off and threw on a smile as the traveller came near.

She knew that at the end of the day, she could only hope to see coppers.

* * *

"Majed, gracious host. What is your fine establishment offering for a midday meal?"

"You can have a tagine of jellied elvers for a mere six coppers," Majed replied.

"Bring it in," said Aram, patting his expansive stomach. I am in haste today. A new caravanserai is arriving in Calan from the far east. Who knows what wondrous items they will bring? What I may buy, and again sell? Or keep, even?"

Lavalu, currently in the midst of wiping some spilled labneh off one of the wooden tables, tried not to. Imagination was fine during the night. In the day, it was a distraction. Of the kind she couldn't afford, both figuratively and literally. And yet, as Majed talked to the one called Aram, an old friend as far as she could tell, she found herself failing to keep her dreams in check.

"I know you only too well, my friend. It is not mere curiosity that drives you to meet every trader the instant they reach the bazaar of the capital. You want first choice on any bargains they bring,"

Majed smiled. And Lavalu saw it. Though her mind was elsewhere, and barely comprehended the motion.

_Perfumes from Calan. Dresses from Folsom. Maybe even-_

"Tis true that I seek a profit, but only so that I can learn of the many marvels of this world. I, for one, don't intend to waste the hours that God has given us in this life," the merchant declared.

_How many lifetimes would it take me to smell like an angel? Or to dress like Princess Shiane?_

"In that case," said Majed, "try not to give yourself indigestion. Here comes my serving girl with your dish."

_God almighty, if only I could-_

"I said," repeated Majed, louder than before, "here comes my serving girl with your dish."

_One dress. One bottle. If only-_

"Lavalu!"

Lavalu let out a yelp. A plate of unfinished humnus fell onto the ground, along with the stone plate itself. Laughter rippled throughout the inn. And Aram looked at her with silver in her eye. The type of silver that led not to gold, but a shiver down one's spine.

"Idiot girl!" Majed exclaimed, slapping her over the head. "You'll pay for your clumsiness!"

Lavalu nodded, kneeling down to retrieve the food and cutlery. Paying meant just that – paying. Lessened pay for the day's work at best, extra chores in addition to that if Majed was feeling particularly vindictive. But that wasn't what scared her. It was rather the way that Aram was looking at her. The way he patted his stomach. The way he moved his hand down to a part of his body below said stomach. The way he licked his lips.

"Alas, I hunger," he said. "Must I wait longer for my humble meal?"

Lavalu bowed quickly. "I'm…terribly sorry, great merchant. Forgive my clumsiness."

"Clumsiness will cost you dearly," Aram said, getting to his feet. Most recently I have lost a servant in the Waste to such a trait." He put a hand on her shoulder. Lavalu winced – not because of the strength of his grip, but the smell of his breath. "Poor boy, his body lies there still."

"And did you help him?" Lavalu blurted out. "Or let him die?"

"Lavalu!" Majed snapped. He clasped his hands together before smiling at his customer. "Pay her no mind, my friend. She is young and stupid."

"And yet, my mind is not at ease," Aram said, keeping his hand on Lavalu's shoulder while he walked around. "My meal is denied. A servant has been lost in such ill fortuitous circumstances. How could I possibly find a way to put my mind at rest? Or share my great fortune with those willing to provide?"

Lavalu looked around the inn. People were talking, laughing, drinking…a few glanced at her. All looked away afterwards. In desperation, she turned to Majed, but she found no salvation there. Only the one willing to help her through the gates of Hell.

"Perhaps," Majed said slowly. "We can…arrange something."

"No," Lavalu whispered. "I…I dropped a plate. I can work. I can-"

"Let me not be a hard master!" Majed exclaimed, putting a hand on Lavalu's shoulder, mirroring Aram. "No pay taken from you, my dear! No extra chores. Only…an extra job."

"You…" She trailed off. She wanted to say, "you can't." But he could. Not legally at least, the Empire had rules against this sort of thing, but no means to prevent Majed from dismissing her on a whim. And that was what would happen if she refused.

She watched as a small bag went between the two men's hands, clinking with the type of music only coin could bring. She listened as Aram said he would stay for the night. She saw Khaleesh be called over, instructed to prepare a room for the night. And she watched as Majed glanced over at her. Daring her to resist. Nodding a head to get her back to the kitchen. To bring Aram another meal. An appetizer, as it had just become.

_God help me._

He wouldn't, she knew. He never answered the prayers of His faithful, in her experience. So lowering her gaze, she turned and did her bidding. Glancing at the setting sun through one of the inn's windows.

Shivering, as she thought on what the night would bring.

* * *

_A/N_

_This story started off as a joke, sort of. Basically, it was a case of someone in my writing group writing a bare-bones story, little more than the conversation between Majed and Aram, which is taken nearly verbatim. I and another member of the group did rewrites, fleshing out on the sequence, kind of a "how the other half lives" exercise as with the final results, it showed our how different our writing styles were, and still are. In my case, I ended up expanding it to a short story, placing it in the _Sins of a Dark Age _setting. Don't know if the game itself will ever see the light of day, but hey, at least this story did._

_Should warn readers ahead of time that the story is rated "M" for a reason due to sexual content. Nothing graphic, but I felt the implications of what isn't seen were enough to give this an "M" rating. Consider yourselves warned._


	2. By All My Sins Remembered

.

**Sins of a Dark Age: The Waste**

**Chapter 2: By All My Sins Remembered**

The window was open. A hot, dry air blew into the room. Stirring up the few specks of dust that remained. Letting the curtains move in the breeze. Whispering the song of the Waste in hot, dry breaths.

And Lavalu shivered.

The room was on the top floor of the inn, reserved for people like Aram – people that Majed knew well, and/or had enough money to get the same benefits. Curtained bed, unblemished drawers from which a single candle glowed, a smooth wooden floor. A mirror, in which she could see her features – black hair in a single braid, grey eyes, a plain face still bearing the scars of adolescence, as (according to holy men) God punished her body for her sins. Or according to wise men, because her body was a chemical battleground and the scars of war made their way to the surface.

_Enough about bodies._

Lavalu only served food and drink, she'd never come in here before. Khaleesh had though. She had seen her leaving the room as she'd come to it, as per Majed's demands. The servant had said nothing, nor met her eyes. Pity, Lavalu wondered? Or pride? The type of pride that a female could take for not having been forced to sell her body.

_It's not too late._

Lavalu made her way to the window, looking out over the barren landscape. To the west was the Waste. To the north was the mosque, the only other structure within a day's walking distance. To the east and south…towns. Cities of the Empire. All out of reach for her right now. Yet perhaps they'd be worth it. All it would take would be to climb out and-

"Ah, good girl. You are here. Good, good."

And nothing, she thought, as she heard Aram's voice. As she heard the sound of the room's door closing (_didn't even hear it open_), as she heard his footsteps on the ground. On instinct, she began to turn around.

"Ah, no, let me see you where you are for now."

Steadying her breathing, Lavalu remained in place. Sweat ran down her forehead.

"The curtains," Aram said.

"Pardon?"

"Around you."

"I…I don't,"

"I said," began the merchant slowly, "pull the curtains around you."

Biting her lip, Lavalu obliged, draping the curtains around her body. A fully clothed body she reminded herself, but how long that would last was a question she didn't want answered.

Aram didn't speak after that. She heard the sound of the bed creaking under his weight, of boots hitting the floor. For a moment, she wondered how much sand they carried, whether Khaleesh would have to clear up after him tomorrow. Whether she would have to clean the sheets as well. Whether…she stifled a gasp…whether _other things _would be found.

"Now turn," she heard Aram say. "Slowly."

Slowly. She would have turned slowly anyway, if only to postpone the inevitable by a few seconds. But still she turned, and still she beheld the sight before her – it wasn't just Aram's boots that had hit the floor, it was the rest of his clothing as well. Brown eyes. Sleek black hair that covered his hair and chest. And stomach, she noticed, its bulk spreading out from its central mass. Yet not so large that it could hide that which lay beneath. The…_thing_…that was between his stomach and legs.

"Majed is good," the merchant said, casting his eyes all over her. "Is he not?"

She nodded.

"Then prove it," he said.

Lavalu just stood there. How could she 'prove' anything? Especially when Majed was a person she wanted to send to the deepest, darkest pit of Hell right now.

"Begin," Aram said.

"I…I don't…"

The merchant laughed. "Are you frightened?"

"I…I mean…um…"

"Clearly, yes. First time too no doubt."

Lavalu nodded involuntarily.

"Good," he said, and silver flashed in his eyes again. Like the silver she'd seen earlier in the day. It had made her shudder then, and she shuddered now. And given how the silver remained…"

_God help me._

"Begin."

And she knew what to do. Slowly, she began to remove her tunic.

"Leave the curtains."

She did. Her tunic landed on the floor. As did her undergarments. The curtains fluttered in the warm breeze, their silk touching her skin.

_God forgive me._

Aram got up, his bare feet touching the floor. Lavalu noticed how tall he was – over a head taller than her actually. With him sitting at the inn's table earlier, as well as on the bed, she hadn't noticed that until now. She felt like a child. For a moment, in that spirit, she wished for the presence of her long dead parents. Then cast that thought aside. There was no reason for them to see this shame. To see how he put her hands on her breasts. To see how one of them moved down to…to…

She couldn't help it. She began to cry. No sound was made, but the tears came anyway. She hoped that Aram didn't see them. That despite all of this, she had some pride left.

"Turn around," he said.

"Wh…what?"

"No tears. Turn around."

Nodding, Lavalu did so. Turning around. Casting her gaze out into the night sky. Wondering even now, as she shivered in the summer breeze, whether it was too late to escape through that window.

And then she sobbed as she felt…_something_…within her from behind. As she was forced onto the wooden floor, its surface feeling hard and…_dirty_…against her bare skin.

And then her mind went blank.

She welcomed it.

* * *

"For your trouble."

Lavalu barely felt the items land against her. She was barely aware of anything for that matter.

"Poor girl. The first time is always the hardest."

She continued to lie there. Her clothes in a neat pile on one end of the room. The curtains draped against her otherwise naked body as she lay opposite. They'd been pulled down from the rail they'd hung off.

"You awake?"

She felt…she didn't know. She just stared. Physically, she felt pain, deep within her buttocks. Spiritually, she felt lacking. Mentally, she felt…_dirty_. Violated. Blinking, she started to look around. The candle was still shining, though its wick was much shorter than before. Aram was now mostly dressed. Aram…was looking at her.

"Thank Majed on my behalf," said the merchant, dark laughter flashing in hus eyes.. "But I am due in Folsom and must make an early start. The sun waits for no man, nor do the passing of those from the far east."

Early…Lavalu glanced up at the window. The sky was still dark. If dawn neared, she could not see it.

"Be proud," the merchant said. "For you are one of the better maidens I have been graced with." He stuck out a hand. "You have earned those."

And Lavalu looked down. Silver coins. Ten of them. More than a month's wage. Proper money. Real money.

_Dirty money._

"And so I leave," Aram said as he put on his second boot and began to head for the door. "May God be with you."

"Is that what you told your servant?"

_Idiot!_

Lavalu cursed herself as she began to regain control of her mental faculties. They'd come too late – if she'd kept silent, Aram could have been out of the room by now and she'd be well on her way to trying to regain her pride. Yet she'd spoken.

"Pardon?"

And Aram had heard. She got to her feet, keeping the curtains around her – not out of an attempt to be alluring, but because they were the only things she had for modesty. Aram looked at her. She looked back.

"Your servant," she said, deciding to take the plunge. "The one you lost."

"Nepali."

"Was that his name?"

"Yes. And when I pass from this world, only I shall remember it." Aram patted his stomach and chuckled. "That is what he was. So what of him?"

"I remember."

"The name of a man you do not know, perished from the bite of a serpent, lost to God."

Not according to some faiths, Lavalu told herself. Some believed souls had to be sent after death, that without the blessings of a holy man, they were doomed to remain in the body. To wander the earth after that body had become bone. What had this…Nepali, believed, she wondered? And why did she even care?

"His body lies by the Tree of the Hanged," Aram said as he opened the door. "Long may he rest."

Lavalu remained quiet as he looked back at her. As he winked at her. As he closed the door. As she sank back to the floor, not wanting to touch the bed sheets after what had…happened. After they'd been made…damp.

Maybe she cared about Aram's servant because he was like her, she thought. A lost soul.

Lavalu leant back against the wood wall. In silence. Letting the tears come and the morning wind blow.

She remained there for a long time.

* * *

_A/N_

_Yeah. And that's why there's an M rating. I've often averted myself from writing intercourse scenes (not always admittedly) and...yeah. That was one of them._


	3. By All My Deeds Remembered

.

**The Waste**

**Chapter 3: By All My Deeds Remembered**

Dawn had yet to come.

Stumbling across the sand, Lavalu glanced once again towards the east. Only the faintest stream of light covered the horizon, but no sign of the sun itself was seen. The moon hung in the sky still, the stars had no closer kin to outshine them. Yet in the gloom, Lavalu could still see. In the gloom, she could still move, even as the physical pain remained in her backside. Even as the sand fell onto her skin and clothes, making her feel even more dirty. Even as she drew close to the mosque – a place of judgment or forgiveness, depending on the temperament. Of the imam of course – if God existed and had a will, it seemed to be up to lesser mortals to interpret it.

Reaching into her pocket, Lavalu took one of Majed's coins into her hand, worming it between her fingers, its silver shining in the darkness.

_Dirty money._

No, she told herself. Money was money. It was pointless to ascribe such human traits to its existence. Nagasi were cruel. Centaurs were wise. The fae were tricksters. But money was just…well, money. A means to an end.

_And mine?_

Lavalu paused on the stone steps that led to the mosque's wooden door. She wondered whether it would be better to turn back. She believed herself unclean, but whether a holy man was required to cleanse her was another matter. And yet…she raised a fist to the door. Deeds was what made the man, her father had told her. Deeds would be judged, not the mental reaction to them. And under the assumption that the same principle applied to women as well, she knocked. Hard.

_Come on. Wake up._

And knocked again. Louder. Harder.

"Hello?" she called out. "Imam?"

Still no answer.

"Please!" she called out. "I have matters of…faith…to discuss."

She heard the sound of a bolt sliding out of place. She withdrew her hand. No reason for the imam to see her with a clenched fist.

The door opened. And Imam Suni looked upon her. Clad in nightwear. Shaved head, short beard. Eyes filled with sleep. And curiosity.

"Lavalu?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "It is the hour of the jackal."

"It…" She trailed off. She hadn't seen Suni in ages. He stuck to the mosque, she to the Inn of Shining Sand. Two different worlds that barely interacted.

"If you have matters to discuss, be best done under the Lord's light," the imam said. He went to close the door. "Good night to you."

"I need passage to the Waste."

The door stopped on its hinges. Likely because Suni couldn't believe what she'd said, Lavalu reflected.

"The Waste?" the imam exclaimed. "That forsaken land? Why would-"

"There's a boy in there," she said. "Departed. But not blessed. His soul confined to his body if he is not sent."

"Is that his belief?" Suni asked.

_Does that matter? You were always quick to tell me- _

"Perhaps," Lavalu said, interrupting her passage of thought. "If so, I believe he deserves blessing. His master left him. His body lies by the Tree of the Hanged."

Suni sighed, looking down. "In the company of the souls of sinners. Tragic." He looked back at her. "But how is this your business? Why concern yourself with the soul of another? With the edicts of a faith you seem so…reluctant…to take part in?"

"I believe that deeds speak louder," Lavalu said.

_Idiot. Now you've done it._

"Deeds are not enough. The faith that goes behind them however, is-"

"And I need a…deed…to be balanced out," the serving girl continued, rubbing her behind. Suppressing a shudder at the memory of Aram doing…_things_…to her. "Will you help me?"

Suni sniffed, and Lavalu shivered. He could smell it, she told herself. He'd probably smell it for the rest of her life. Majed too, though whether he cared would be another matter.

The imam sniffed again. And stood tall.

"It is not my place," he said. "The Waste is treacherous."

"But it's before dawn. Temperature-wise we're fine, we can find the body and-"

"And the boy may not seek the blessing I offer," Suni continued. "So I thank you for your thoughts, Lavalu, daughter of Sajik. But I-"

"Here," she said, putting a silver coin in her hand. "Payment."

Suni glared at her, though the coin remained in his hand. "You seek to purchase my services?"

"It isn't the first time," whispered the serving girl. "Is it?"

The imam remained silent.

"A mosque, right next to the Waste. The Inn of Shining Sand to replenish traveller's bodies, you to replenish their souls, or bless their bodies. Hazard pay involved of course."

"You whisper lies."

"What are you afraid of?" she asked. "I understand – God may not use coins, but mortals do. We all have our…businesses," she said, thinking of Aram and shuddering. "We're still on this earth Suni. Money still makes it turn."

"The world does not turn. The sun moves above this land and-"

Lavalu put a second coin in his hand. Bad enough he'd brought her father into this, bad enough he could smell the stench of sin on her too. But astronomy…no. Just no.

"If…if I go…" Suni began. "I must take care…preparations must be made…great pains may be involved and-"

Lavalu put in a third coin. And the imam's eyes shone. Like Aram's. But as he looked down at her, she felt at ease. That, and because of the words he spoke.

"I shall aid you."

* * *

Suni rode on a horse. Lavalu walked beside the creature, glad that it wasn't a camel. Because horses didn't spit.

Though they did whine, she noticed, and the imam's mount had done that plenty as they'd walked through the Waste. The ground was cracked and hard – it was said that water had once flowed in the land, but had disappeared in ages past, leaving behind tiny channels and dead scrub behind. It was easy to walk on, unlike the sand that bordered it in the lands between the Waste and Calan. But there was something…_wrong_, about it, Lavalu thought. And as the horse whined again, she could see that she wasn't the only one who thought so.

Suni seemed fine though, she reflected. Maybe it was the money talking. Maybe his faith was just that strong or whatnot.

"Behold, Lavalu. The light greets us."

Lavalu glanced around. Sure enough, the sun was beginning to rise. Sure enough, Suni let out a prayer. As if the sun rising was a bloody miracle and not due to the forces of…

_Don't go there._

And she didn't. She'd heard tales at the inn. Theories by learned scholars on their way to Calan, discussing concepts she could barely grasp. She had listened. She had tried to learn. Had-

"Oof!"

She stumbled, courtesy of a dead tree root. Her chin hit the ground. Hard.

"Are you alright?" Suni asked.

_Aram, stop! Stop! Oh God…please…_

"My dear?"

Aram, forcing her to the ground. Defiling her. Doing…doing…

Suni reached down for her. She slapped his hand away and sprung to her feet. Glaring. Snarling. Reaching out to-

_No._

Do nothing. She smiled. And bowed.

"Long night," she said. "But I'm fine."

_Liar, _the eyes of the imam seemed to say. And that, at least, was undisputable truth. As surely as the sun rose in the east and set in the west. As surely as the Waste was a barren wasteland. As surely as the Tree of the Hanged loomed before them.

"Alla yirkom," Suni whispered. "E' fegali."

"I'm sure he will," Lavalu murmured.

"Wicked men were taken here," Suni whispered, softer than before. "Hung, for their crimes. Their souls may yet linger."

_Wicked men. No wonder Aram passed by._

It was a strange paradox, Lavalu reflected. The Tree of the Hanged was so named because criminals were once taken here to hang from its branches. To dehydrate, die, and let the crows feed on their entrails. Sometimes when they still clung to life. It was a practice outlawed a generation ago – the empire still executed the scum of its society, yet by more humane ways. Burning and beheading for instance. Yet people passed by the tree when they travelled through the Waste. Not only was it a source of shade, but it was a natural landmark, a good point of reference. No doubt that was why Aram had come by.

_And did that cost Nepali his life? Or was he doomed beforehand?_

Only Nepali hadn't died to dehydration. She could see that from here. And she ran forward.

"Lavalu!"

The boy…and he truly was a boy…lay against the tree. His skin burnt. His eyes closed. Almost at peace.

_Almost._

She heard Suni come by her. She saw him kneel down beside her. She heard him sigh.

"Is this the one you speak of?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Do you believe he seeks salvation?"

"I don't know," Lavalu whispered, glancing back at the rising sun before looking at Suni. "But I believe…if he believes…he deserves to have that belief fulfilled. It's…" She shuddered. "The least I can do."

Suni nodded and got to his feet. He went to his horse, taking out a book from a satchel attached to it. Lavalu couldn't read. But she knew the words.

"Alla makum," he began. "Alla yihfazkum."

Lavalu turned and walked away. She'd heard the words before. When her parents died. A fire. Another pointless death in a world with too many. Like Nepali's. Unmourned. Unremembered. Certainly by Aram at least.

_I care._

And she felt…better, as well, as the sun rose. As she felt warmth upon her skin. As the horse nuzzled her hair. As she stroked the beast's in turn. As she felt…she smiled…seven more silver coins in her pocket.

_Lucky number that._

Luck…it was in short supply in this world. As was peace.

But feeling clean, feeling that perhaps her actions had meant something, Lavalu felt that at the least, peace was something she had again.

And maybe, the boy before the Tree of the Hanged could find it too.

**The End**

* * *

_A/N_

_So, that's that. No other _Sins of a Dark Age _stories on my 'to write' list I'm afraid. May never be, considering the game seems stuck in development hell. Anyway, current writing focus is on a _The Repopulation _story titled _The Price of Freedom_. Different currency though. No gold._


End file.
